Unbridled Passion
by Kat Lee formerly Pirate Turner
Summary: Donkey never has to think hard to know what to get for the loved ones on his list.  10th in my 12 Days of Christmas fic series for my wonderful, beloved husband Jack and our darling babies.  Slash.


Title: "Unbridled Passion"  
>Author: Pirate Turner<br>Dedicated To: My beloved, wondrous, and always inspirational and amazing Jack, and our darling babies - Merry Christmas and Happy Solstice, my loves! This is the tenth story in my 12 Days of Solstice/Christmas for my beloved Jack and our darling babies of the year 2011.  
>Rating: R due to sexual content<br>Summary: Donkey never has to think hard to know what to get for the loved ones on his list.  
>Warnings: Slash, Mild Het<br>Date Written: 13 December, 2011  
>Word Count (excluding heading): 1,744<br>Disclaimer: Donkey, Puss in Boots, Shrek, Fiona, and all other characters mentioned within are ﾩ & TM DreamWorks, not the author, and are used without permission. La Vida Loca is ﾩ & TM Ricky Martin, also not the author, and is used without permission. Everything else belongs to the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Shopping wasn't a thing for which donkeys had much use, and it never changed. Even when others were running about like chickens with their heads missing in search of the perfect gifts for the perfect some one while holidays and birthdays drew ever nearer, Donkey barely gave shopping any thought. He always got the same things for all of his friends. He gave Pinocchio a new pair of scissors every time so that he could cut his strings and run wild as close to a "live" boy as possible until Gepetto learned of his deceit, strung him back up, and confiscated the scissors. Donkey grinned and wagged his behind, his short tail flopping happily about his hind quarters. The old man must have a hundred pairs of scissors by now!

For Wolfy, it was always a new dress; after all, wearing Grandma Hood's night cap and robe did get quite tiresome after awhile. He'd rather stank the first time Donkey had given him new clothes for he'd never undressed long enough, until then, to actually bathe as he had seen no point in putting dirty clothes on a clean body and yet would not go naked long enough to wash his gown. All the other fairy tale characters had remarked upon the change in Wolvy's scent after he'd changed his outfit; it was even better than the dress Donkey had gotten him whose emerald shade matched his eyes perfectly.

He even gave Shrek, Fiona, and Dragon the same gifts every time. He constantly learned new songs with which to serenade the mother of his children, kept them secretly in his repertoire, and only brought them into play on special occasions or when he'd upset or angered her. Since she'd become a mother, Donkey had always gifted Fiona with a day away from the kids. He and Dragon took their babies underneath their own proverbial wings for one day each turn of the season, and for one blissful day, Fiona could do whatever she wanted.

As for Shrek, the answer was simple. The Ogre had supplied it himself, and although Donkey didn't understand why he reveled in the same gift as much as he did, it never ceased to please him for Donkey to stay away from him for just one day. Donkey tossed back his head, laughingly hee hawed, and grinned broadly. Maybe that was when Shrek and Fiona really got their wild thing on!

A meadow broke open before Donkey, and he surveyed the field of wild and naturally growing herbs and flowers with an intent, calculating eye. His long ears pricked up. He lowered his head to the ground and started sniffing as he slowly made his way pass one flower after another. There was one thing in particular for which he always came here in search, and one friend, above all others, into whose gift Donkey put some genuine thought.

Of course, that friend was way more than just a friend. Donkey's grin grew as memories of their times together began to play through his mind. He sang a Spanish love song whose words he'd learned from his very best friend. Puss was much more than just his dearest friend and most loyal ally and confidante, however: he was the one to whom, from the first time he'd seen his big, begging, beautiful, and green eyes, Donkey's heart had and would always belong.

It didn't take him long to find the one herb for which he had come in search. He clamped his big, white teeth around the red sock he'd hooked onto one of his long ears, removed the sock from his ear, and brought it down to the meadow. The bells on one end of the sock chimed in merry greeting, and Donkey's grin grew even as he started shoveling the sweet-smelling herb into the sock. He filled it almost to the brim, then carefully tied it into place, and headed back home and away from the meadow, still singing at the top of his lungs. He'd finished his Spanish love song, however, and now started on La Vida Loca.

No one sang that song better than he and his beloved Puss, and nobody knew better how to get to Puss than Donkey did. The jingling bells and sock filled with catnip would help him bring them both the Christmas bliss they deserved, and Donkey relished both his memories of the past holidays they'd shared, happily and passionately, together and the wild and unbridled passion his gift would unlock this Christmas Eve.

He always got every one the same thing, but for Puss, he changed his gift slightly every time. In the beginning, there had been only one bell on the sock. This year, there were two. He always searched through the fields as the date grew closer until he found the best smelling and wildest catnip of the lot. He changed the color of the socks, the way they hung on him, and the amount of catnip he used. This year, he'd collected the most catnip ever, and he barely had room to move around in it as he galloped home.

It didn't take him long to reach home, and he found Puss sharpening his sword on the far side of Shrek's little shack in the woods. He peered around the corner of the shack and clinked his teeth together. He did it a few more times, making each chomping sound louder, until his love finally looked up at him. Donkey's breath caught in his throat as the rising moon glistened on Puss' sensual, orange fur. His long tail whipped about him, and Donkey could hear his beginning purr even despite the distance that still separated them.

"Donkey," Puss purred and ran his fingers over his whiskers. His emerald eyes gleamed in his seductive invitation. "Why are you standing so far away?"

Donkey grinned and started a new song. "Santa Claus is coming to town! Santa Claus is coming to town!" he started singing loudly. He swayed his body, and the bells jingled in tune to the carol.

Puss' green eyes grew round, and then his black irises narrowed into tiny slits that would have warned of danger to most but whose rising passion Donkey recognized instantly. "Must I wait much longer," Puss purred, laying down his sword and coming closer to his beloved life mate, "to be awarded my present?" He reached him, took his handsome face in his loving paws, and rubbed his long ears. Donkey shivered from head to hooves in delight. "I've been a good kitty," Puss purred, his tail swishing wildly through the chilling air, "all year."

"I know you've been good, baby," Donkey countered, rubbing his nose against Puss' soft fur. His mate always smelled delicious. He wouldn't tell Donkey what he used on his fur, but it didn't matter. Donkey had smelled him enough years to know that, despite the perfumes and colognes Puss used, the most wonderful and alluring scent to ever draft up from his fur was his own personal aroma. The sweet scent was as much naturally Puss as his charming demeanor; soft, silken fur; sharp claws; and the most powerful and sweet begging expression that could get any one to do whatever he asked of them that Donkey had ever witnessed. "But shouldn't we wait a little while longer?" he teased.

"Nonsense," Puss purred and ran his tail along Donkey's strong jaw. Donkey quivered all over at his tender embrace. "It is Christmas Eve, after all, mon amour," his green eyes gleamed, "and I've brought the mistletoe. Do you have the catnip?"

Donkey waggled his eyebrows and stepped fully around the shack so that Puss could see his entire body. He enjoyed the way Puss' eyes narrowed and glowed with desire as he shook the bells hanging on the sock at him. "Do I ever!"

Puss started forward, and Donkey swung away from him. Puss reached out for the jingling bells, but Donkey lowered his face between him and the back part of his body. "Uh-uh. Not yet. What do you say first?"

Puss smiled up at him. He swept his feathered cap off of his head. His pointed, orange ears wriggled and his whiskers shivered in anticipation. His long tail whisked around his body and again slid over Donkey's face. He stroked his jaw, his nose, the space between his eyes, his forehead, and finally one long ear, back and forth, inside and out, one stroke at a time. Donkey had already melted and become putty in Puss' loving paws before Puss fixed him with his begging expression.

"Merry Christmas," he purred. "I love you!" He leapt forward, grasped Donkey's face in his hands, and kissed him. His small lips pressed against Donkey's much larger mouth with a passion far more powerful and hotter than anything either of them had ever felt before they'd come together for the first time. Yet despite their first time being so wonderfully hot, passionate, and loving that it was a wonder they hadn't burned down the entire forest, each time they made love was even better than the last.

Donkey's knees shook; his entire body quivered. He started to lower himself as Puss' tongue pushed through his mouth and ran, in quick flicks, all over the insides of his mouth. Puss tasted of Donkey's tongue and teeth and drank wildly of his passionate nectar before finally lifting his head not so much so that he could take a breathe but rather so that Donkey could breathe again. Donkey hee hawed as he took in a large gulp of oxygen. Every inch of him was shaking in delight as he breathed out, "Wow!"

Puss grinned up at him, his emerald eyes sparkling mischievously. "Now," he requested, still purring deeply and lustfully, "may I have my present?"

Donkey nodded weakly. The bells shook on his stallion, and Puss pounced. He grasped the dangling bells in his claws and started shredding the sock with his teeth. Catnip poured open, and Puss lapped at it and his beloved with his tongue. Donkey's hee haws of passion echoed over their swamp land home, and as it had always been and would forever be since they had come together and recognized their true loves in each other, it was the best Christmas ever for Donkey and Puss, spent playing games, frolicking as only they could and dared to do, and loving each other, wildly, passionately, madly, and joyously, forever more.

**The End**


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